PINK FLOYD - LYRICS

Kings, Sticks And Birds

(Könige, Stöcke Und Vögel)

Bearbeiter: so.iss.das
Stand:       15.02.2008 11:28:56
Akt I, Szene 2

Kings, Sticks And Birds

RINGMASTER
Ladies and Gentlemen
Imagine a bird on song in a tree
An ordinary bird like you or like me
Imagine some ruffian happening by
And beating him within an inch of his life

CHORUS
Ahh!

RINGMASTER
Then a priest from some denomination
Witnessing this abomination
Blesses not the bird but the beast
The Unknown Soldier appears on the field
And takes the bird's feathers to put on his shield
Then a powerful judge from the high court
Decrees that the birds really ought
Not be allowed to sing in the trees
But then one day
Some of the priests and soldiers and judges
Putting aside some old worn grudges
Changes their minds and the birds sang again
It was the Revolution
The Revolution is a story of birds
Of sticks and stones and bushes and bones

RINGMASTER & CHORUS
A story of now, a story of then
A story of woman, a story of men

RINGMASTER
A story of everything to come
Of everything under the sun

MARIE MARIANNE
Honest bird, simple bird
Just longing to be spreading the word
Feeling the rain, feeling the sun
But your time has not come
Your song is not heard
Honest bird

MALE CHORUS
Singing is forbidden in the fig tree
Singing is forbidden in the olive tree
Singing is forbidden in the pear tree
No singing in the olive or the fig or the pear tree

MALE CHORUS & CHILDREN
No more singing in the fig tree
No more singing in the pear tree
Someone's hanging in the olive
There's someone hanging in the olive tree
Singing in the fig tree, that's forbidden
Singing in the pear tee, that's forbidden
Singing in the olive, that's forbidden
Someone's hanging in the olive tree
Someone's hanging in the olive tree

MARIE MARIANNE
You come to earth, you have no choice
Could be a seamstress or serving girl
Or butcher's boy
Could be a dead beat
Or one of the elite
Maybe the bird ill find his voice
And make a choice
From all the wheat and all the chaff
It's the knowledge that you glean
Makes you what you'll be
And the knowledge that you lack
A rod for your own back
Leaves you in purgatory
Honest bird, simple bird
Make your choice, find your voice

REVOLUTIONARY PRIEST
Make your choice, find your voice

CHORUS
I want to be King, Queen, Courtesan, Dauphin
I want to be Cardinal, Capitaine, King of Kings
I want to be God

SOLO BOY
I want to be the King

SOLO GIRL
I want to be the Queen

SOLO GIRL
I want to be the Courtesan

SOLO BOY
I want to be the Dauphin

SOLO BOY
I want to be the Cardinal

SOLO BOY
I want to be the Capitaine

CHORUS
I want to be the King of Kings
I want to be God

SOLO BOY
I am a great big pig

SOLO BOY
I am the King of France

SOLO BOY
His wife likes to dance

SOLO BOY
I am the Church of Rome
I stand behind the throne

SOLO BOY
I am the public purse; they think I'm bottomless

SOLO BOY
I am the public accounts; I admit I'm a bit of a mess

SOLO GIRL
I am the American war and they say I'm rather greedy

SOLO GIRL
I am the national debt; I'm big but needy

SOLO BOY
I am a noble

SOLO BOY
I am the clergy

SOLO BOY
I am the ordinary man

SOLO GIRL
I am hungry

SOLO GIRL
I am starving!

CHILDREN'S CHORUS
The cake needs re-carving!

TROUBLEMAKER
I'm a ravening wolf

MALE CHORUS
I'm a, I'm a, I'm a ravening wolf

FEMALE CHORUS
I'm a, I'm a, I'm a heart of thorns

MALE CHORUS
It's the end of the shield of divine law

TROUBLEMAKER
I'm the oak tree

CHILDREN'S CHORUS
I am the oak tree and I am the columbine
I am the pig searching for truffles

CHORUS
And I am the peacock whose feathers are ruffled

TROUBLEMAKER
Let us break all the shields
And soil the ermine
Take the oak and the olive tree
Make their philosophy our own
The pigs eat the acorns
The rich eat the pork
The poor eat the olives and spit out the stones

REVOLUTIONARY PRIEST
We only ask a little tax from the nobility
The spat out stone will grow in time into an olive tree
We will smoke our pork over a fire of basilic

TROUBLEMAKER
And we will plant the laurel tree

REVOLUTIONARY PRIEST
To make

TROUBLEMAKER
To make

REVOLUTIONARY PRIEST
A wreath

TROUBLEMAKER
A wreath
A wreath to crown the République

REVOLUTIONARY PRIEST
We will smoke our pork upon the pyre of privilege
The flames of castles burning will dance from ridge to ridge
We'll break all the shields
Spit out all the stones
Make the oak and the olive trees' philosophy our own
The pigs eat the acorns
The rich eat the pork
The poor eat the olives and spit out the stones

CHORUS
We will smoke the pork on a fire of basilic
We will plant the laurel tree to make our laurel wreaths
To crown, to crown, to crown the République!

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